instinct. He didn’t do well with defiance from his woman. In any case, he had to test the waters. So far, she’d reacted exactly the way he needed her to. He caught her hips, spun her around so she was facing the wall, yanked that fuckin’ little sexy dress right up over her hot little ass encased in the prettiest, sexiest, mint green lace panties he’d ever seen. He smacked her ass hard. Three hard strikeson each cheek and then whipped her dress down before turning her back around.
“Give me the fuckin’ pack of cigarettes, Seychelle. I’m not playin’ games here.”
Tears spilled over, but she hadn’t made a sound when he’d spanked her. “That hurt.”
“You weren’t supposed to enjoy it, angel.” It took effort not to take her tears right off her face with his tongue. He wasn’t going to be able to resist for long. He waited for condemnation. A screaming, deserved temper tantrum.
“You do realize you’re being a first-class dick?”
“I realize I’m saving your life and you aren’t thanking me. As I recall, I went out of my way to thank you. In fact, I risked going to hell and jail for lying when I told Ms. Prune I was your fiancé.”
She hadn’t screamed for help. She hadn’t run away. She wasn’t condemning him. She just regarded him with those liquid sea-blue eyes. She was beyond anyone he’d ever imagined.
Seychelle shook her head and then those fantasy lips curved into a smile and his heart clenched hard in his chest. He wanted to be closer to her. He couldn’t help stroking his fingers down the marks Joseph had put on her neck. No one put marks on her skin but him. No one. He wanted to kick the shit out of the little dick.
“Hand the pack over, Seychelle.” He didn’t give in for one minute. He couldn’t. If she belonged to him, she had to know what she was getting into. What the hell was he thinking? But he couldn’t stop himself.
She heaved an exaggerated sigh. “I suppose since you went to the trouble of announcing you were my fiancé, I should give you a pass.”
“ And I’m saving your life.” He held her gaze captive, refusing to look away.
Another exaggerated sigh. Another flash of that littleheart-stopping dimple. “Fine. You’re probably saving my life as well. I’ve been wanting to quit, but I’m so addicted.”
“Addiction is meant to be overcome.”
He took the pack from her and crushed the remaining cigarettes.
“Even you?” she demanded. “Are you addicted to something as well? Or are you above the rest of us?”
“Even me.” He looked her in the eye. “You have any more?”
She shook her head. “What are you addicted to?”
“You.” He put it out there, uncaring if it freaked her out. “You should run while you have the chance. It won’t do you any good, but you can at least try.”
“Maestro and Keys just asked me to join their band. That’s what started this.” She gestured toward Joseph on the ground, where two members of her band crouched to make certain the scout was still able to get to his feet. “There’s no doubt you can track me down.”
“Hell, man, you nearly killed him,” Hank, the lead guitarist, accused.
Savage ignored him, unconcerned if Joseph was alive or dead. He’d made certain to take a photograph of Seychelle’s neck and the finger marks there. The asshole tried to strangle her right there in the alley. Savage probably wouldn’t let that shit go. More than likely he’d slip into the man’s hotel room and break his fuckin’ neck.
He took Seychelle by the arm and walked her back down the alley, away from the others and toward the bar. “No doubt I will track you down.” He snapped his fingers. “Address.”
She lifted her chin. “Do you think I’m crazy? You’re so far out of my league I can’t even consider encouraging you.” Her gaze once more drifted over him from head to toe, once again giving him that strange feeling that she was physically touching him. “You’re dangerous to
“Give me the fuckin’ pack of cigarettes, Seychelle. I’m not playin’ games here.”
Tears spilled over, but she hadn’t made a sound when he’d spanked her. “That hurt.”
“You weren’t supposed to enjoy it, angel.” It took effort not to take her tears right off her face with his tongue. He wasn’t going to be able to resist for long. He waited for condemnation. A screaming, deserved temper tantrum.
“You do realize you’re being a first-class dick?”
“I realize I’m saving your life and you aren’t thanking me. As I recall, I went out of my way to thank you. In fact, I risked going to hell and jail for lying when I told Ms. Prune I was your fiancé.”
She hadn’t screamed for help. She hadn’t run away. She wasn’t condemning him. She just regarded him with those liquid sea-blue eyes. She was beyond anyone he’d ever imagined.
Seychelle shook her head and then those fantasy lips curved into a smile and his heart clenched hard in his chest. He wanted to be closer to her. He couldn’t help stroking his fingers down the marks Joseph had put on her neck. No one put marks on her skin but him. No one. He wanted to kick the shit out of the little dick.
“Hand the pack over, Seychelle.” He didn’t give in for one minute. He couldn’t. If she belonged to him, she had to know what she was getting into. What the hell was he thinking? But he couldn’t stop himself.
She heaved an exaggerated sigh. “I suppose since you went to the trouble of announcing you were my fiancé, I should give you a pass.”
“ And I’m saving your life.” He held her gaze captive, refusing to look away.
Another exaggerated sigh. Another flash of that littleheart-stopping dimple. “Fine. You’re probably saving my life as well. I’ve been wanting to quit, but I’m so addicted.”
“Addiction is meant to be overcome.”
He took the pack from her and crushed the remaining cigarettes.
“Even you?” she demanded. “Are you addicted to something as well? Or are you above the rest of us?”
“Even me.” He looked her in the eye. “You have any more?”
She shook her head. “What are you addicted to?”
“You.” He put it out there, uncaring if it freaked her out. “You should run while you have the chance. It won’t do you any good, but you can at least try.”
“Maestro and Keys just asked me to join their band. That’s what started this.” She gestured toward Joseph on the ground, where two members of her band crouched to make certain the scout was still able to get to his feet. “There’s no doubt you can track me down.”
“Hell, man, you nearly killed him,” Hank, the lead guitarist, accused.
Savage ignored him, unconcerned if Joseph was alive or dead. He’d made certain to take a photograph of Seychelle’s neck and the finger marks there. The asshole tried to strangle her right there in the alley. Savage probably wouldn’t let that shit go. More than likely he’d slip into the man’s hotel room and break his fuckin’ neck.
He took Seychelle by the arm and walked her back down the alley, away from the others and toward the bar. “No doubt I will track you down.” He snapped his fingers. “Address.”
She lifted her chin. “Do you think I’m crazy? You’re so far out of my league I can’t even consider encouraging you.” Her gaze once more drifted over him from head to toe, once again giving him that strange feeling that she was physically touching him. “You’re dangerous to
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